Read Online He's Captured My Trust (Captured Series Book 2) by Karen Frances - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen Frances
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as he swells deep within me and cries out my name at the same time I call out his.
“Libby.” He sounds concerned.
“Yes,” I answer as I turn in his arms. He withdraws from me quickly, fixing his jogging pants.
“I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He takes me in his arms and kisses me sweetly.
“What?”
He lifts the shirt that has fallen back into place and shows me what he’s sorry for. There is a small trickle of blood on my right hip, and, on the left, a bright red mark. He lets go of me and gets a paper towel and runs the tap. He then cleans my hip rather delicately.
He looks confused as I look into those eyes—eyes that are not burning with desire at the moment but cold and concerned.
“Why didn’t you say I was hurting you?”
“Because, my sweetest Alex, if I had, I would have gotten the same reaction I’m getting now. I didn’t see the point in spoiling the moment.”
“I hate the thought of hurting you. You already know that.” He strokes the side of my face gently.
“The pleasure outweighed the pain, believe me. If it had been too painful, I would have told you.” I sigh, knowing we’ve already had a conversation along these lines. “Right. I think it’s about time we made it to bed. You have work to go to, and I don’t want to be responsible for you being late.”
“We will go to bed on one condition.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“That I get to lie with my arms wrapped around you the whole night. Feel my skin against your skin and fall asleep knowing that you’ll still be in my arms in the morning. Because, baby, I hate the fact that I left you alone that night to wake up on your own without me. I never want that to happen again.”
“Deal. Sounds perfect to me.”
He needs to stop beating himself about that, because it’s done, it’s in the past, and there is not a goddamned thing that can be done about it.
I TURN AND OPEN THE door. He is the last person I expect to see, with that dirty, smug look on his face. The smell hits me—booze. He stinks of it, and my stomach turns. He pushes me further into the room.
“Well, Elizabeth.” His voice is harsh. “I think you were rather rude at the table. Manners are everything. Didn’t Daddy Dearest teach you anything?” Jeff takes a step through the door. “You are mine . . .” He moves further into the store, letting the door close behind him. He is scaring me.
“What is it you want, Jeff?”
“What do I want? Oh, my dearest Elizabeth, I thought that was obvious.” His voice is softer. He lets his fingers slide across my face. It feels wrong. It makes me feel dirty. “I want you. As I said, you are mine.”
“Do you think you’re his?” he hisses through gritted teeth. “You’re just his latest plaything. Do you really think he wants you? Look at you. He can have anyone he wants. Why would he possibly choose you?”
“Elizabeth, I want you,” he says quietly, moving closer to me. “That hasn’t changed in the last few months. I love you, and I know you still love me.”
I flinch.
“And you think he could love you?” he asks, his voice rising. “Do you love him? He’s using you, and so is Daddy Dearest. When are you going to get that through that thick skull of yours? Have a good look about you.”
He grabs me roughly by the wrist as I move, stopping me from making contact with his face. His hand is tight. I pull against it, but as I do, his hold gets tighter. I can’t believe I’m stuck here with him.
“You stupid bitch!” he shouts as his other hand makes contact with the side of my face. He pushes me, and my back hits the metal shelving behind me. “You didn’t answer the fucking question. Do you think he could ever love you the way I do? I think we should have some fun together, for old times’ sake. Stop fighting me.”
I slump in defeat. All the fighting in the world is not going to help me. He releases his hold of me and runs his fingers down my cheek, brushing them
“Libby.” He sounds concerned.
“Yes,” I answer as I turn in his arms. He withdraws from me quickly, fixing his jogging pants.
“I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He takes me in his arms and kisses me sweetly.
“What?”
He lifts the shirt that has fallen back into place and shows me what he’s sorry for. There is a small trickle of blood on my right hip, and, on the left, a bright red mark. He lets go of me and gets a paper towel and runs the tap. He then cleans my hip rather delicately.
He looks confused as I look into those eyes—eyes that are not burning with desire at the moment but cold and concerned.
“Why didn’t you say I was hurting you?”
“Because, my sweetest Alex, if I had, I would have gotten the same reaction I’m getting now. I didn’t see the point in spoiling the moment.”
“I hate the thought of hurting you. You already know that.” He strokes the side of my face gently.
“The pleasure outweighed the pain, believe me. If it had been too painful, I would have told you.” I sigh, knowing we’ve already had a conversation along these lines. “Right. I think it’s about time we made it to bed. You have work to go to, and I don’t want to be responsible for you being late.”
“We will go to bed on one condition.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“That I get to lie with my arms wrapped around you the whole night. Feel my skin against your skin and fall asleep knowing that you’ll still be in my arms in the morning. Because, baby, I hate the fact that I left you alone that night to wake up on your own without me. I never want that to happen again.”
“Deal. Sounds perfect to me.”
He needs to stop beating himself about that, because it’s done, it’s in the past, and there is not a goddamned thing that can be done about it.
I TURN AND OPEN THE door. He is the last person I expect to see, with that dirty, smug look on his face. The smell hits me—booze. He stinks of it, and my stomach turns. He pushes me further into the room.
“Well, Elizabeth.” His voice is harsh. “I think you were rather rude at the table. Manners are everything. Didn’t Daddy Dearest teach you anything?” Jeff takes a step through the door. “You are mine . . .” He moves further into the store, letting the door close behind him. He is scaring me.
“What is it you want, Jeff?”
“What do I want? Oh, my dearest Elizabeth, I thought that was obvious.” His voice is softer. He lets his fingers slide across my face. It feels wrong. It makes me feel dirty. “I want you. As I said, you are mine.”
“Do you think you’re his?” he hisses through gritted teeth. “You’re just his latest plaything. Do you really think he wants you? Look at you. He can have anyone he wants. Why would he possibly choose you?”
“Elizabeth, I want you,” he says quietly, moving closer to me. “That hasn’t changed in the last few months. I love you, and I know you still love me.”
I flinch.
“And you think he could love you?” he asks, his voice rising. “Do you love him? He’s using you, and so is Daddy Dearest. When are you going to get that through that thick skull of yours? Have a good look about you.”
He grabs me roughly by the wrist as I move, stopping me from making contact with his face. His hand is tight. I pull against it, but as I do, his hold gets tighter. I can’t believe I’m stuck here with him.
“You stupid bitch!” he shouts as his other hand makes contact with the side of my face. He pushes me, and my back hits the metal shelving behind me. “You didn’t answer the fucking question. Do you think he could ever love you the way I do? I think we should have some fun together, for old times’ sake. Stop fighting me.”
I slump in defeat. All the fighting in the world is not going to help me. He releases his hold of me and runs his fingers down my cheek, brushing them
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